Sweet Silken Bondage (28 page)

Clay took the seat near the bed and sat there
watching her as she moved calmly and efficiently
about the cabin laying out her clothes for the evening. His expression was closed to her, and she
never knew of the tumultuous emotions stirring
within him. He was trying to figure out why he'd
gotten so angry over the incident on deck, and he
couldn't quite put his finger on it. He only knew
that from now on he was going to keep Reina with
him. He was sure his chances of getting her back to
California would be much better as long as he
carefully monitored everything she did.

With still over an hour to go before the evening
meal would be served, Clay found that he was
growing more and more restless in his self-imposed
surveillance of Reina. In the confined space of the
cabin, he was becoming more and more conscious
of her. The trimness of her figure and the gentle
sway of her hips as she moved about the room all
heightened his perception of her as a woman, and
that was something he was trying to forget.

When Reina dabbed a touch of her favorite perfume at her wrists and throat, Clay stifled a groan.
The scent she used was special, a delicate, spicy,
floral perfume that seemed to have been made only
for her, and it was a heady scent and very potent to
his senses. The elusive fragrance would always remind him of their passionate encounter at the Randolphs', and much to his regret, it would always
have the power to stir him. He tore his gaze away
from her and tried to think of something else less
disturbing.

Reina wanted to finish getting ready for dinner,
but the only things she had left to do were her
more private, more feminine duties. Since Clay had
cruelly accused her of not being a lady, she was
determined to show him just how modest she could
be.

"Clay..

"What?" he sounded particularly surly.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd leave the cabin for a while. I have a few personal things I have to do,
and I'd like some time alone."

"Sorry," his answer was flat and unyielding. "I'm
staying."

Reina couldn't believe he was refusing to go.

"Clay, be reasonable," she argued. "Why would
you want to stay in here and watch me get ready?
Surely, there's something else you could be doing."

"Actually, there really isn't. Keeping tabs on you
is my most important duty, Reina."

"But I need some privacy," she protested.

"You just go ahead and do what you have to do.
I'll stand here at the window out of your way."

"You..."

"Yes, my dear?" he taunted, then went on. "If
we're playing husband and wife, it wouldn't look too
good if every time you have to change clothes you
make me leave the room."

"If anyone asked, you could just tell them I'm the
bashful type."

Clay gave a jeering laugh. "I don't mind a halftruth now and then, but after everybody saw you in
action with Webster this afternoon, I doubt that tale
would hold up for long."

Reina gave him a chilling look, but it didn't
bother Clay in the least that she was angry. It
wasn't his job to please her. It was his job to get
her home to her father in one piece.

"I'm afraid, whether you like it or not, you're
stuck in enforced intimacy with me all the way to
Monterey." He smiled.

Reina managed to hold back the shriek of fury
that threatened. She stood there, her expression
calm, waiting. When he didn't move right away, she
demanded, "Well?"

Clay's grin turned mocking at her unspoken yielding. Feeling quietly victorious, he moved to the
small window to look out at the sea. To his absolute delight, he found he could see her reflection quite
clearly in the glass as she stood at the foot of the
bed staring at him resentfully.

"It's safe now, Reina. I can't see a thing," he lied.

"Thank you," she muttered irritably as she started
to unbutton her dress.

"You're welcome. You know, I certainly wouldn't
want to offend your delicate sensibilities by seeing
you undressed, although, it certainly would be anticlimactic. I mean I have already seen you in a
certain state of deshabille."

"It's very crude of you to bring that up," Reina
said icily.

"Crude? It was a rather pleasant experience at the
time," he chuckled at the annoyance in her tone.

"Why don't you just forget that it ever happened?
We both know it didn't mean anything. It was a
mistake that'll never be repeated."

"You're right that it didn't mean anything," he
agreed with her assessment thoughtfully. "But don't
think it happened by mistake, Reina. I was determined to get you alone, and I picked what seemed
to be the easiest way to do it."

Reina was glad that Clay couldn't see her, because she flushed painfully at his revelation. It was
obvious that he'd thought her less than virtuous
from the very beginning, and she hadn't helped
matters any by almost giving herself to him completely. He'd been totally blind to the fact that she'd
been in danger of falling madly in love with him.
He'd thought that she'd been acting through the
whole thing, teasing and taunting him just as he'd
been teasing and taunting her.

The knowledge was painful, but Reina was glad
for it. As long as he continued to believe that she'd
been just playing a role, she would be saved from
any further humiliation at his hands. It would never
do for Clay to find out that she really had felt something for him, if only for a little while.

"How fortunate that I made it so easy for you."
The sarcasm was evident in her voice.

"If that hadn't worked, there would have been
other times and other places. Rest assured, Reina,
I'd have found a way," Clay answered with confidence. "I wasn't about to let you get away from me
a second time."

Reina smiled to herself as she began to disrobe.
Clay was feeling quite superior right now, but if she
had anything to say about it, his mood wasn't going
to last very long. Soon there would be a second
escape! All they had to do was make landfall. Once
the ship made port, she'd be gone, and this time
she'd make sure he would never be able to find her!

As Reina undressed, dreaming of her triumphant
getaway, she was completely unaware of Clay watching her every move. He had begun this folly, thinking the trick on Reina. But as his desire for her
stirred unbidden, he realized too late that he was
the one who would suffer from his ploy. Cursing
himself for his stupidity, he fought against the longing that filled him. In misery, he recognized that it
was going to be one very long night.

Reina was still angry as Clay escorted her to the
ship's sumptuous dining room a short time later.
His dictatorial demand that she not speak to Michael Webster any more had left her silently fuming. She'd hoped Michael would prove to be the one
ally she needed in this ordeal, and she wasn't about
to change her plans just because Clay thought she
wasn't acting like a married woman.

Anyway, she thought fiercely as they swept into
the richly, wood-panelled room, just who did Clay
think he was, trying to tell her what to do? Stubborn
and headstrong as she was, Reina was determined
to pay him back. Even if she only made his life
miserable for a little while, it would well be worth
it. Feeling very daring, she lifted her chin in an
unconscious gesture of confidence and girded herself
for the evening to come. They had been invited to
dine with the captain; Reina couldn't have been
more delighted to see that Michael Webster was also
seated at their table.

As Clay led her across the room, Michael saw
them coming and immediately got to his feet. He
rushed forward from the table to welcome her, his
expression eager. To Clay's way of thinking he
looked almost puppyish, and when Reina greeted him openly and warmly, he tensed.

Reina had never dreamed everything would work
out so perfectly, and she smiled brightly as Michael
rushed to her side.

"Mrs. Cordell, I'm so glad we've been seated at
the same table." Michael had seen her smile, was
sure it was just for him. If possible, he fell even
more deeply under her spell. He was unaware of
anything, save Reina's presence in the room. She
was an angel, a goddess.

"So am I, Michael," Reina responded and she
meant it.

"I was wanting to talk to you some more after
our time on the deck, and this is going to be
perfect."

"Yes, it will be," she agreed, totally ignoring Clay
standing by her side.

Clay was seething. The boy was practically drooling all over her right here in front of everybody!
He didn't like the way Webster eyed her so hungrily
or the way he hung on her every word. Clay
wanted to grab him by the scruff of the neck and
shake some sense into him, but he knew this was
neither the time or the place. Although it wasn't
easy, with a concerted effort, he managed to control
himself.

"Perhaps we should go on and sit down?" Clay
prodded tersely as he spied the captain looking their
way.

"Oh, yes..." Webster was a bit shaken by the
realization that he'd been so oblivious to everything
and everyone but Mrs. Cordell. "Sorry. Evening,
Cordell."

"Good evening, Webster." Clay's was a strained
civilized greeting. He led the way to where Gibson
awaited them, drawing Reina along with him in a
possessive move that left the youth alone to follow.

Captain Gibson had been watching the exchange,
enjoying it in his own dry-humored way. The Cordell woman was a looker, and though Webster was a
handsome enough boy, he stood no chance at all in
competition with her husband. Cordell was a fullblooded male, a man's man. It was easy to see just
by his stance and actions that he would tolerate no
interference with his wife. Gibson hoped the youth
caught on before any trouble broke out between
them. In any kind of fight, the kid wouldn't last a
minute against the husband. He rose to greet the
three of them as they came forward.

"Good evening, Mrs. Cordell, Mr. Cordell.
Ma'am, if I may be so bold, you are a lovely sight
tonight," Gibson complimented in a booming voice.
"You grace my ship with your beauty."

"Why, captain, you're too kind," Reina replied
sweetly, turning on her charm. She was very much
aware of Clay's glowering presence beside her, but
she was not going to allow him to intimidate her in
any way.

"I'm not being kind, my dear," he countered. "I'm
a New England Yankee, through and through. I
make it a practice to only speak the truth, and this
evening, you are a vision to behold."

"And I agree, Mrs. Cordell!" Webster put in
hastily, enraptured as he hurried forth to pull out
the chair next to his for her.

"Well, thank you, both." Reina smiled graciously.

Clay, having no choice in the matter, directed
Reina to the chair Webster held out.

Reina could sense that he was annoyed, and she
was glad as she sat down gracefully, bestowing glowing smiles on both the other men. Let Clay be
irritated! she thought with glee. What did she care? He
meant nothing to her. He was her captor, her unwanted guardian, her miserable jailer. Every minute she was forced to endure his domination. His cocksure attitude annoyed her so much that she was
eager to prod him here in public. She wanted to let
him know in no uncertain terms that he could not
tell her what to do.

Clay was fully and completely frustrated. He
couldn't remember the last time he'd encountered so
much trouble doing something so simple. All he
had to do was get Reina back to California. After
seeing her lift her chin in that subtly defiant move,
he'd known for sure that he was going to be in for
a rough night. She was a willful wench, and he was
going to have a devil of a time controlling her. Hell,
Clay thought in misery, bringing in Ace Denton had
been child's play compared to this.

Clay ignored the compliments the men were
heaping on Reina as he sat down to her left. He
didn't care for the seating arrangements, but there
was nothing he could do about it without coming
across as either jealous or foolish. Still, it was much
too intimate, as far as he was concerned. Clay
would have preferred a massive, eight-foot-long
plank table like the crew used in the galley with
Reina at one end and Webster at the other, rather
than this rather private setting.

As soon as everyone was comfortably seated, Michael immediately engaged Reina in conversation,
and she responded without reserve, just as Clay
feared she would. He realized then the mistake he'd
made in trying to force her to behave. As selfcentered and stubborn as she was, he should have
known that she would react exactly the opposite of
how he'd wanted her to act. He cursed himself for
being so short-sighted, but at the time, his temper
was flaring.

As the two of them talked on, their light, easygoing, unconcerned comments began to grate on Clay's nerves. He drank his glass of wine, then had
another. When Gibson asked him a few questions in
an attempt to begin a discussion of their own,
Clay's answers were abrupt and discouraged any
further talk. He refilled his glass and told himself
that he didn't want to talk because he didn't want to
be distracted from Reina. He had to keep track of
what she was doing.